Following the death of Bishop Javier Echevarria, who led Opus Dei from 1994 until his passing, the Spanish priest Fernando Ocáriz Braña, up until then the “number 2” in the Prelature, was elected by the General Congress and named the new Prelate by Pope Francis, this past January 23rd. Two weeks later, Palabra Magazine was able to conduct an extensive interview with Monsignor Ocáriz.

The goal
was to help bring the person of Monsignor
Fernando Ocáriz closer to the reader. The new Prelate of Opus Dei made himself completely available, overcoming his usual resistance to center the conversation on
himself. A certain reserve is typical of his character, as is a sobriety of
expression, while not lacking cordiality and openness. As for the photo session,
that was the less pleasing part for him, but he underwent it with
good humor.

A certain reserve is typical of his character, as is a sobriety of expression, while not lacking cordiality nor openness.

Our
encounter took place in the seat of the Curia of the Prelature of Opus Dei, the
building where Saint Josemaria Escriva, Blessed Alvaro del Portillo, and Javier
Echevarría all worked. While Fernando Ocáriz came into the spotlight of Opus
Dei’s government in 1994 when he was named vicar general (since 2014, he was the
auxiliary vicar), he has lived here for the past 50 years, knows every detail
of Opus Dei’s activity, and acts in full identification with his predecessors.

We thank the Prelate for this interview, the first done at such length, just two weeks after his election and naming on January 23rd, 2017.

The early years

You were born in 1944 in Paris to a Spanish
family. Why was your family living in France?

Because of the
Spanish civil war. My father was in the military, on the Republican side. He
never wanted to talk about it; but I understand that, because of his position
as a commander, he had the opportunity to save people, and within the
Republican army he ended up in a very risky situation. As he was not a
supporter of Franco, he thought it best to head for France, and he went there by way of
Catalonia. He was a military
veterinarian, but he had dedicated himself primarily to animal biology research.
He was not what you might consider a politician, but rather part of the army and
a scientist.

Do you remember anything from that time?

Everything
I know about this period of my life is what has been told to me. When the
family left for France, I had not been born yet, nor had the seventh child in
my family, the sister that precedes me (I never knew my two oldest
sisters, who died when they were little, some time before I was born). The two
youngest ones in the family were born in Paris. I was born in October, just a
month after the liberation by American and French troops by General Leclerc.

Did you talk politics at your home?

I don’t
have any memories with regard to Paris. Once we were back in Spain, we didn't
talk much about politics: occasional brief comments (not favorable ones,
although not violent either) with regard to Franco’s regime. In any case,
one has to recognize that, from that period on, my father and our family led a
stable life. My father was re-admitted to an official center of research,
dependent on the Ministry of Agriculture in Madrid, where he worked up until his
retirement.

What about religion? Did you receive the faith
through your family?

It
was in my family’s home that I learned the basics of Christian piety.

I received
the faith mainly through my family, above all through my mother and maternal
grandmother, who lived with us. My father was a very good person, but at that
time he was quite distanced from religion. With time he would came back to
religious practice, and he even became a supernumerary member of Opus Dei. But
yes, it was in my family’s home that I learned the basics of Christian piety.

From Paris, the family returned to Spain.

I was only
three years old then, so I only have a vague memory of this, a hazy image in my
memory of a train ride from Paris to Madrid.

Where did you attend primary school?

At
Areneros, a Jesuit school. I studied there up until it was time for university.
It was a good school, with serious discipline. In contrast with what I
have heard about other schools at the time, I never saw any Jesuit hit a child
in the eight years that I was there. My schooling is something for which I am very
grateful. I remember most of my teachers, above all those I had in the final
years; for example, in my last year we had a math professor, a layman and
father of a family, whose last name was Castillo Olivares. He was a really outstanding
person who we all admired a lot.

Encounter with Opus
Dei

You studied Physical Sciences in Barcelona. Why
did you move there?

Actually, I
did my first year of university in Madrid. It was the “selective” which
introduced us to all the engineering and science faculties. There were only
five courses, common to all of these fields: mathematics, physics, chemistry,
biology, and geology. There were many people in our year; a large number of groups, each with over one hundred students.

That first
year I had don Francisco Botella [professor, priest and one of the first
members of Opus Dei] as one of my math teachers. When he found out later on that
I was in Opus Dei, and that I was thinking of studying Physics, he told me,
“Why do you want to study Physics? Why not study Mathematics? If you want to
make money, become an engineer; but if you are actually interested in the
sciences, don’t you want to study Math?”

When I went
to Barcelona, I was already a member of Opus Dei. I lived in the Monterols
student residence, where I combined my studies in Physics with the theological
and spiritual formation received by those who join the Work.

When did you meet Opus Dei?

Through
conversations between my older siblings and my parents, I had heard the
expression “Opus Dei” from a young age. Although I had no idea what it was, the
words were familiar to me.

There
you could pray, study, hang-out, and between one thing and another, I began to
assimilate the spirit of Opus Dei.

When I was
in my last year of high school, I went to a center of the Work that was at number
1, Padilla Street, on the corner with Serrano Street (that’s why the center was
called “Serrano,” but it doesn’t exist anymore). I liked the atmosphere there as
well as what was being said, but at school we already had spiritual activities,
and so I didn’t really see the need for it. I also went once to play soccer with
the guys from “Serrano.”

Later on, after
high school and before starting the university, in the summer of 1961, my older
brother, who worked as a naval engineer at a shipyard in Cadiz (Spain), invited
me to spend some weeks with his family. There was an Opus Dei center close to
his house, to which I started going. The director there was a marine and an
engineer, and he encouraged me to make good use of my time. He even gave me a
Chemistry book to study, something that I would have never thought to do in the
summer! There you could pray, study, hang-out, and, between one thing and
another, I began to assimilate the spirit of Opus Dei.

Eventually,
they spoke to me about the possibility of having a vocation to the Work. I
reacted the way many people do, saying, “No. In any case, maybe like my
brother, who is a father of a family.” I mulled it over until I finally
made up my mind. I remember the exact moment: I was listening to one of
Beethoven’s symphonies. Naturally, it’s not that my decision was caused by the
symphony, but that the two things coincided: the fact that I was listening to
Beethoven when I decided, after having thought and prayed about it a lot. A few
days later, I returned to Madrid.

Does this mean you like music?

Yes.

Who is your favorite composer?

Beethoven perhaps. I also like others: Vivaldi, Mozart…, but if I had to pick one, I
think I’d stick with Beethoven. The truth is that for a number of years I haven't listened to music very often. I don't follow a specific plan.

Do you mind describing that decision of
dedication to God?

There
wasn’t an exact moment of “encounter” with God. It was a natural, gradual
thing, starting from when I was young and was taught to pray.

There
wasn’t an exact moment of “encounter” with God. It was a natural, gradual
thing, starting from when I was young and I was taught to pray. In a progressive
way, I began to grow closer to God in school; there we had the
opportunity to receive communion daily, and I think this helped make the subsequent decision to join the Work a relatively quick thing. I asked for admission
to the Work just a month before my 17th birthday, which means I
formally joined at 18.

What can you tell us about those years in
Barcelona?

I lived in
Barcelona for five years, two as a resident in the center of studies I
mentioned earlier and three as part of the staff of the same residence. During
those years, I studied the final four years of my degree, and then stayed on an
extra year giving lectures as an assistant in the same Faculty. All my
memories of Barcelona are wonderful: of friendship, studying… a special memory
for me are the visits that we would make to the poor and the sick, something
traditionally done in the Work. Many of us who went, university students at the
time, realized that coming in contact with poverty or suffering helped put our
own problems in perspective.

When did you meet Saint Josemaria Escrivá? What
was that like?

It was August 23, 1963. We were
in Pamplona, in the Belagua Residence, during a formative activity in the
summer. We had a very long get-together with him, at least an hour and a half.
He made an awesome impression on me. I remember that afterwards a number of us there remarked that we wished we could see the Father (that’s how we called the Founder) much more often.

Saint Josemaria's sympathy and naturalness were noteworthy; he was not a solemn person, but very spontaneous and had a great sense of humor, often telling stories, anecdotes; and at the same time, he said things that were very deep.

His
sympathy and naturalness were noteworthy; he was not a solemn person, but very
spontaneous and had a great sense of humor, often telling stories, anecdotes;
and at the same time, he said things that were very deep. It was a wonderful
combination: he said profound things in a simple way.

I got to
see him again shortly after, a month later I think. I went to spend some days
in Madrid, and it turned out that the Father was in Molinoviejo, so we went to
see him from various places.

On none of
these occasions was I able to speak with him personally. But later on, here in
Rome, I got the chance to, many times.

Fifty years in
Rome

You moved to Rome in 1967…

I came to do
studies in theology, and I also managed to get a scholarship from the Italian
government to do research in Physics during the academic course of 1967-1968, at
the
Sapienza. In the end, I didn’t
manage to do that much research, only the minimum required by the scholarship.
When I came, the idea of pursuing an academic career in Theology was not exactly
on my mind. Things just followed their course. But I didn’t have that as a plan.

You were ordained a priest in 1971.

Yes. I was
ordained on August 15, 1971, in the basilica of Saint Michael, in Madrid. The
bishop who ordained us was Don Marcelo González Martín, the bishop of Barcelona
at that time, shortly before he was moved to Toledo.

We jokingly
claimed that there were four Frenchmen in our promotion: two were “fully”
French, Franck Touzet y Jean-Paul Savignac; and then there was Agustín Romero,
a Spaniard who had lived in France for many years; and lastly myself, who was
born in Paris and had lived there for three years.

I cannot
say that I had always felt a call to the priesthood. When I came to Rome, I
made known my openness to the possibility from the very beginning, and later on
I told Saint Josemaria more explicitly: “Father, I am open to being ordained.”
He took me by the arm, and told me, among other things, more or less: “You give
me a lot of joy, my son; but when the moment comes, you should do it with
complete freedom.” I think that conversation took place in the
Galleria della Campana, at the end of
one of the many get-togethers we had with him.

Did you receive any pastoral assignment in
Spain, following the ordination?

No. Three
days after the ordination, I celebrated the first solemn Mass in the Basilica
of Saint Michael, and then immediately came back to Rome. Here I had previously helped out in apostolic activities with the youth in Orsini, at that time a
center for university students, giving classes of Christian formation and
participating in other activities.

Once a
priest, here in Rome I helped for a number of years in the parish in Tiburtino (
San
Giovanni Battista in Collatino
), and then in Sant’Eugenio. I also provided
priestly attention to a number of centers of the Work, both women’s and men’s;
and I also worked here in the offices in the Opus Dei’s central see. In
short, a normal trajectory.

It’s known that you like tennis. When did you
take that up?

I began with
tennis early on, in Barcelona. An Italian named Giorgio Carimati, now an
elderly priest, taught me a lot – at that time he played really well, almost at
a professional level. But I have been on and off with tennis, because I injured
my right elbow and at times I would do more cycling. Now I try to
practice tennis; I try to play every week. But it is not always possible, and depends on the
weather, work, etc.

Do you play “real” games? To win?

Of course.
In terms of winning, it depends on who I play against.

Do you like to read?

The spirit of Opus Dei is the Gospel placed in ordinary life, and one can always go deeper

Yes, but
there isn’t always time… I don't have a favorite author. I like to read classics.
For lack of time, it has taken me years to finish longer books; a while back
now, it took me a year to get through
War
and Peace. I have had to read many things in Theology, because I have taught it until 1994, and also for the Congregation for the Doctrine of the
Faith I have to study theological topics.

In theology, you have studied aspects central
to the spirit of Opus Dei such as divine filiation. Do you see deepening these
reflections as critical?

A lot has
been done in this area. It needs to continue, and it will always need to
continue. The spirit of Opus Dei is, as the philosopher and theologian Cornelio
Fabro said, “the Gospel
with no
additives.” It is the Gospel placed in ordinary life; and one can always go
deeper.

In this
sense, we are not in a new period now, because really a lot has been done. It’s
enough to read, for example, the three volumes by Ernst Burkhart and Javier
Lopez, under the title
Daily Life and
Holiness
.

In an article published in this same magazine,
when describing Bishop Javier Echevarría, you used the expression “dynamic
fidelity.” In what sense did you mean that?

The
expression “dynamic fidelity” is nothing original. It’s something that Saint
Josemaria expressly confirmed: the ways of speaking and doing change, although
the nucleus and the spirit remain untouchable. So this is not something new for
today. One thing is the spirit, and another is the material aspect of the
functioning of the accidental aspects, and these are things that can change
with the times.

Fidelity
is not just mechanical repetition; it is applying the same essence to different
circumstances.

Fidelity is
not just mechanical repetition; it is applying the same essence to different
circumstances. Many times it is good to maintain the accidental aspects also,
and at other times, change them. From there comes the importance of discerning,
above all in order to know what is the boundary between the accidental and the
essential.

What role did you play in the
beginnings of the Pontifical University of the Holy Cross?

I had
nothing to do with the juridical or the institutional aspects. I was just one
of the first professors. I had been a professor at the Roman College of the
Holy Cross for many years, in connection with the University of Navarre, and
from 1980 to 1984 I gave classes at the Pontifical University Urbaniana; as I had
enough publications, the competent authority of the Holy See considered my
qualifications sufficient for starting out directly as an ordinary professor.
There were three of us who began as ordinary professors then, under these
conditions: Antonio Miralles, Miguel Ángel Tabet and myself.

Who have been your teachers, intellectually
speaking?

In
Philosophy, Cornelio Fabro and Carlos Cardona. In Theology, I wouldn’t be able
to name one in particular. Saint Thomas Aquinas, Saint
Augustine, and later on, Joseph Ratzinger, have all been big influences. But above all I would point to Saint
Josemaria Escriva himself: naturally, in a non-academic sense, because of
his depth and originality. So if I had to select one for Theology, it would be
him.

Memories of three
popes

When did you meet Saint John Paul II?

In one of these large meetings with the clergy in the Vatican, at the beginning of his pontificate. Later on I saw him on many occasions, and while accompanying Bishop Javier Echevarría, I ate with him a few times, together with three or four other people.

I also had lunch with him two other times, because of my work at the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.

The first
time, we had a meeting in the pontifical apartment with, in addition to the
Pope, the Secretary of State, the Substitute, Cardinal Ratzinger as Prefect,
and three consultants. After a long conversation, we all went to the dining
room, and during the meal, each one of us took turns giving our opinion about the topic under discussion. Meanwhile, on this occasion and also
the second time, the Pope mainly listened. At the beginning he said some words
of gratitude for our being there, then he asked Cardinal Ratzinger to lead the
meeting, and at the end he gave a synthetic summary and evaluation of
everything he had heard.

I think it
was on the second occasion when, after listening and thanking everyone who had
spoken, he put his hand to his heart and said: “But the responsibility is
mine.” One could see that the matter in question particularly weighed on him.

And when did you meet Benedict XVI?

Benedict XVI listened a lot, and he was never the one to end the interview.

I met
cardinal Ratzinger when I was named consultant for the Congregation for the
Doctrine of the Faith, in 1986. Later on, we crossed paths with some frequency,
in small meetings. And I have gone to see him many other times for different
reasons.

Do you remember any anecdotes from these
encounters?

One thing that
I always observed in him is that he listened a lot. He was never the one to end
the interview.

I remember
various anecdotes. For example, with the famous Lefebvre
affaire, I was in conversations with the French bishop, if I
remember correctly, in 1988. In one meeting, Cardinal Ratzinger was there (as
Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith), the Secretary of
the Congregation, Lefebvre himself with two advisors, and one or two other consultants.
Lefebvre had accepted the invitation to come, but later on he backed out. I was
alone with Ratzinger for a moment when he made a heartfelt remark: “How is it they don't realize that, without the Pope, they are nothing!”

Once he was
Pope, I was able to greet him a number of times, but never had a proper
conversation. Since his stepping down, I have seen him on two occasions, with Bishop Echevarría when we went to see him in the place where he lives now. I
noted that he was very affectionate, aged but with his mind completely lucid.

Speaking of the problem with the Lefebvrians,
do you think it will ever be resolved?

I have not
been in touch with this question since the last theological meetings with them, some
time back. But from the news I hear, it seems like a solution could be near.

When did
you first meet Pope Francis?

I met him
in Argentina when he was the auxiliary bishop of Buenos Aires. I was with Bishop
Javier Echevarría. I saw him again in 2003, and by that time he was Cardinal Archbishop.
The impression he gave was that he was a serious person, friendly, and in touch
with people’s concerns. His face has since changed: now we see him with that
continuous smile.

I have seen
him various times since he was made Pope. Yesterday I received a letter from
him. I had sent him a letter thanking him for my appointment, the promptness
with which he had carried it out and for the image of Our Lady that he sent me
that same day. And he answered my letter with another beautiful letter in
which, among other things, he asks me to pray for him, as he usually does.

Priorities

On your first day as Prelate, you referred to
three current priorities for Opus Dei: youth, family, and people in need. Let’s
start with the youth.

It is important that young people ask deep questions, which ultimately find their complete response only in the Gospel.

In the work
Opus Dei does with young people we see that today’s youth – at least a good
number of them – respond with generosity to great ideals, for example when taking part in activities that serve the most needy.

At the same
time though, many young people seem to have a lack of hope, because of the
lack of work opportunities, or because of family problems, or because of a
consumerist mentality or the different addictions that cloud over these
great ideals.

It is
important that young people ask deep questions, which ultimately find their complete
response only in the Gospel. One challenge, then, is to bring them closer to
the Gospel, closer to Jesus Christ, to help them discover its attraction. There
they will discover reasons for being proud of their Christianity, for living
their faith with cheerfulness and serving others.

The
challenge is to listen to them more, and understand them better. In this area,
parents play a principal role, along with grandparents and educators. It is
important to have time for the youth, to be at their side. We need to show affection and
patience, and accompany them and know how to challenge them as well.

In your opinion, what should be the priority
for families?

To develop
what Pope Francis has called the “heart” of
Amoris
Laetitia, that is chapters 4 and 5 of the Apostolic Exhortation, about love’s
foundations and its growth.

In
our days it is especially important to rediscover the value of the marriage commitment.

In our day and age
it is especially important to rediscover the value of commitment in marriage.
Living without ties of commitment might seem like a more attractive option, but
that kind of attitude tends to lead to loneliness or emptiness. Meanwhile,
committing oneself means using one’s freedom in favor of a great and
valuable endeavor.

Moreover, for Christians the sacrament of marriage provides the necessary grace
for a fruitful commitment, which is not a matter of just two people, because
God is also a part of it. Therefore it is important that we help
people rediscover the sacramental nature of matrimonial love, especially during the
period of marriage preparation.

During the pastoral visits you made with Bishop
Echevarría, you have gotten to know many initiatives in support of people in
need. Have you seen these needs up close?

The world’s
poverty is heart-rending. There are countries that have, on the one hand, people at
a very high level, scientists, etc. and at the same time, real misery, and
these two realities coexist in the great cities. In other places, you find
yourself in a city that looks like Madrid or London and, a few kilometers down
the road, a completely impoverished neighborhood, a whole shanty town formed
around the city. The world is different in different places. But what is
clear everywhere is the need to serve others, the need to make the Social
Doctrine of the Church a reality.

In what sense are people in need a priority for
the Church and, as a part of that, Opus Dei?

They are a
priority because they are at the center of the Gospel and because they are
loved by Jesus Christ in a special way.

We have to help each and every faithful of the Prelature and each person that comes in contact
with its apostolates to discover that one’s Christian life is inseparable from
helping those most in need.

In Opus Dei
there is an initial aspect that is more institutional in nature: that of the
initiatives carried out by individuals within the Prelature together with
others in order to respond to specific needs of the moment and of the actual
place where they live, to which the Work offers spiritual assistance. Some
recent examples include
Laguna in
Madrid, a health initiative that offers palliative care;
Los Pinos, an educational center situated in a marginal area in
Montevideo, which promotes social development for youth; or
Iwollo Health Clinic, a medical
dispensary that offers free health care to hundreds of people in rural areas in
Nigeria. These and many other similar initiatives need to continue and grow
because Christ's heart leads in that direction.

On another,
deeper plane, there is a need to help each and every faithful of the Prelature and each
person that comes in contact with its apostolates to discover that one’s
Christian life is inseparable from helping those most in need.

If we look
around us, in our place of work, in our family, we will find plenty of
occasions: older people who live alone, families that are going through
economic difficulties, poor people, some unemployed for a long period of
time, or sick in body or in soul, refugees… Saint Josemaria was concerned about caring for the sick, because he saw in them the suffering flesh of Christ the
Redeemer. That’s why he used to refer to them as a “treasure.” These are dramas
that we find in ordinary life. As Mother Theresa of Calcutta – now “Saint” – would
say, “one does not have to go to India to care for and love others: it can be done
right in the street where you live.”

Current
society offers new challenges for evangelization, and the Pope often reminds
the Church that it should always be “going out.” How does Opus Dei participate
in this invitation?

The Pope is
calling for a new stage of evangelization, characterized by the joy of those
who, having found Jesus, put themselves “out there” in order to share
this gift with their fellow men and women.

In
Opus Dei we experience the same difficulties as everyone else in the Church,
and we ask Our Lord, who is “Lord of the harvest,” that he send “workers
for his harvest.”

The only person
who can give true joy is the one who has personal experience of Christ.
If a Christian dedicates time to his or her personal relationship with Jesus,
he or she will be able to give this witness to the faith in middle of ordinary activities, and help people discover right there the joy of living the
Christian message: the worker with fellow workers, an artist with other
artists, the university student with fellow classmates…

We in Opus
Dei – with all our defects – want to contribute to building up the
Church from our own place of work, in our own family… striving to sanctify
ordinary life. Many times it will mean areas of professional and social life
that have yet to experience the joy of God's love and that, in this sense,
are also peripheries we need
to reach, one by one, shoulder to shoulder, among our peers.

Fostering vocations is a real concern for the
Church. What would you suggest, based on your experience in Opus Dei?

In Opus Dei
we experience the same difficulties as everyone else in the Church, and we ask
Our Lord, who is “Lord of the harvest,” that he send “workers for his
harvest.” Perhaps a particular challenge is that of fostering generosity among
young people, helping them to understand that giving oneself to God is not
just a sacrifice but also a gift – a gift that one receives and that makes one happy.

Hopefully
in the life of every Catholic there is a daily gesture done out of love for the
Holy Father

What is the
solution? Something the founder of Opus Dei said comes to mind: “If we want to
be more, let’s be better.” The Church's vitality does not depend so much
on organizational formulas, new or old ones, but rather on a complete openness
to the Gospel, that brings with it a change of life. Both Benedict XVI and Pope
Francis have reminded us that it is above all the saints who build up the Church. So, if we want to see more vocations for the whole Church, let us each strive to correspond better to the grace of God, who sanctifies us.

Since your election you have frequently asked
for prayers for the Church and for the Pope. How does one foster this unity
with the Holy Father in the life of ordinary people?

You’re
asking me for a suggestion. Everyone who has personally greeted Pope Francis,
and since 2013 there have been thousands, have heard this petition: “Pray for
me.” It’s not a cliché. Hopefully in the life of every Catholic there is a
daily offering done out of love for the Holy Father, who has a lot of weight to
carry: for example, reciting a simple prayer, making a small sacrifice, etc.
It’s not about looking for difficult things, but specific, daily things. I
would also encourage parents of families to invite their children, from a young
age, to pray a short prayer for the Pope daily.